


Driftwood and Sea Glass (Everyday Miracles Happen)

by catwalksalone



Series: When Two Go Together Along the Way [6]
Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Comment Fic, Future Fic, Non-sexual Romantic Relationship, Other, Slice of Life, mild angst in reference to past events
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 22:19:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9092965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catwalksalone/pseuds/catwalksalone
Summary: James and Robbie and a quiet day at the beach. 
Part of my Lewis^Hathaway series, but can be read as a stand alone.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Sal, who wanted James and Robbie and tides. Lewis^Hathaway

There was no possible chance Robbie had rolled his trousers up enough, James thought. Not with the way he was letting the tiny breakers crash against his shins like that. Later, the trousers would hang over a radiator, encircled with rows of neat creases topped with a white ring of salt, not neat, but rippled like the sea whose memories it carried. With one hand James carefully lined up Robbie's discarded shoes, tucking the laces and black cotton socks into them. He'd noticed a hole in the toe of one of them as Robbie peeled it off. Maybe if he threatened a trip to Marks and Spencer it would convince Robbie to reacquaint himself with the toenail clippers. Though, to be fair, it hadn't exactly been high priority of late. James took a long drag on his cigarette, carefully rationing the flow of smoke back into the air: it helped keep what needed not to be said remain unspoken.

("Is that still a thing? Sea air and that? I thought that went out with bathing huts.")

The sea came in with a rush, foaming and bubbling around Robbie's feet and reforming behind him like he was no impediment at all. Out beyond the breakwater, three rocks worn to points like witches' hats, water patched dark around them with seaweed hair, slowly submerged. And up in the heavens the moon laughed because the earth may have her splendour, but she was mistress of the swelling beat of the earth's lifeblood. It was for her the driftwood and sea glass, the frayed nets, even the sun-salt bleached plastic cast along the world's shores: all offerings to her inexorable nature. A gull perched on the tallest hat spread its wings and flapped them, once, twice, three times before plunging off the rock and beating low along the water before shearing upwards, climbing into the sky in widening circles.

James shook his head free from the mesmeric susurrus of the waves and shook his head, grinding his cigarette out on the sand. "You're not having him," he said and jumped up just as Robbie turned and smiled, hands on his hips.

"Tide's coming in!" he called. 

"You think?" James began to walk towards him keeping his stride loose and easy. Even now after years together he feared scaring Robbie with the urgency that sometimes consumed him: the need to be present in a moment together, to be close enough to hear his heart beat if the world would only stay quiet enough.

"Careful, soft lad, you'll get those expensive shoes wet. Not to mention the trousers. Have you learned nothing about being English by the sea? I blame your teacher."

James stopped just short of reaching him and frowned, watching the water swill around Robbie's legs, up to his ankles by now. 

"Do you want to head back for lunch? It's getting on a bit." 

("...total success, but it'll take a while to recover and at his age...")

Robbie's sour expression told James he'd heard loud and clear, no matter how tamped down he'd tried to keep his thoughts.

"Don't mollycoddle me, I'm fine," he snapped with the same peevish air he'd always used to complain about station coffee, or the last chief's inadequacies, or what was wrong with the phone nowadays, why was everyone set on video calls that froze every thirteen minutes like clockwork? James hadn't heard it in a while and he bit his cheek to stop himself laughing, relief a swift spring tide of the soul.

I love you, James thought as hard as he could. Maybe Robbie would pick up on that one too.

"Besides," Robbie continued, peevishness entirely vanished. "I think the beach has eaten my feet. Fancy giving me a piggyback now I'm legless?"

"I'll give you a hand, that do?"

"Always, Jim." said Robbie, "But I'd prefer two."

They walked back along the tideline, Robbie's shoes swinging from the crooks of James's fingers. 

"We should go whilliking when the tide's out," Robbie said.

"I draw the line at whelks, sorry. Is this another remnant of your misbegotten youth?"

"Give over. It's a time honoured tradition round these parts. And you draw the line at whelks but I'll bet you go all gaga over oysters."

"I don't think I go gaga over anything."

"No?"

James shrugged. "I suppose it depends on how you define gaga."

"I don't know, do I? I know my skin's thinner these days but I'm not papery enough to be a dictionary. How about something you can't live without?"

"Hmm." James paused, letting the silence stretch out between them. This was a game and they both knew it; they were years and days and hours past insecurities and doubts. The rock they'd been built on, sturdy and strong but with enough sharpness left to cut, had been worn smooth by the daily ebb and flow of their life together. 

"Oi, Major Tom," said Robbie, poking him with a strength that was equal parts pleasing and painful. "Did you get lost in there?"

James let the back of his hand knock against Robbie's: an offering. "Maybe one thing," he said. 

"One's good enough for me." Robbie's fingers curled round James's palm and they walked the rest of the way back to the car in silence.

No, not silence. High in the sky birds called to each other and the low murmuring of the waves was louder now: a hurrying inward rush and a more leisurely retreat. In the distance a dog barked and children screamed with terrified delight at the water's edge. Beyond it all, where the world was quiet enough, Robbie's heartbeat, strong and sure.

One was enough.


End file.
